


Unravel You

by HauntedCity



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Age Difference, Bathroom Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flirting, POV Second Person, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Wall Sex, Who even knows, may turn into a collection of oneshots, may turn into a story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29275107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HauntedCity/pseuds/HauntedCity
Summary: “Guys are so forward, why can’t I be?”This piques his interest it seems, body turning fully toward you.“Oh? Alright, college girl, be forward.”“Well, for one I think you like what you saw. Maybe had to do with this dress. Maybe the age thing?” you eye him up and he doesn’t give away too much but you get the sense that you hit the nail on the head. “Whatever. Point is: there’s a spark here of some sort and I think it would be a damn pity to miss out on something that could be really fucking good if you let it…”
Relationships: Jim "Chief" Hopper/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Unravel You

**Author's Note:**

> No idea what this will turn into. May be a oneshot, may be a series of oneshots, may turn into a story? Anyway, here's a thing I did!

Leave it to Aunt Karen to plan a party when you’re visiting from out of town and _not_ tell you. Spending a day shopping by yourself wasn’t exactly in your plans but, hey, it sure beats the nonstop criticism that go something like, _‘why are you taking time off before starting graduate school?’_ and _‘your clock is ticking, you better settle down soon.’_

It’s a little ridiculous.

Clothes shopping by yourself never goes well because you’re _super_ freaking indecisive. You aren’t surprised when your stomach growls, signaling a needed lunch break. Ditching the store, you meander to the nearby food court.

“Y/N?” you’re three bites into your meal when you hear a familiar voice: your cousin.

“Nancy! What are you doing here?”

She shakes her head. “Avoiding. I didn’t know you came in today.”

Quite honestly the only person in the family you’ve really bonded with has been your cousin, Nancy. A few ‘how you doin’ phone calls spaced out throughout the year that consist of discussions of work and what college was like, where you plan on going to grad school, how _lame_ the guys are in this town…

The idea comes quickly: asking Nancy to join you at your final store – your last attempt before saying ‘fuck it’ and just wearing jeans. Thankfully, she agrees and soon the two of you are off to J.C. Penny to search through the racks.

An armful of dresses and a head full of hope, you enter the dressing room to try on.

Nancy promises to be nearby when you need her opinion, an old habit you two formed years ago during your visits. Only this time you don’t need her opinion for the first eight outfits – they were just not your style.

Last-ditch effort you shove yourself into a flowy black dress and stare at yourself in the mirror. It’s…actually…not _terrible_. Not what you usually wear and if you remember correctly Nancy may have been the one to suggest this dress, but if she doesn’t take credit you aren’t giving it.

Peeking out of the dressing room, you notice only one other door closed but you know Nancy didn’t try anything on.

“Nance?” you meander to the entrance of the fitting room, eyes scanning for Nancy.

To your right, you notice a big man leaned against a rack. Your eyes would meet, but he’s busy looking you over. You feel hot under his gaze and take a quick second to notice that _he’s in uniform._ And he looks damn good in uniform; filling it out. Your heartrate increases. You hadn’t been doing anything wrong, so why is this cop outside of a women’s dressing room?

You surprise yourself, have the courage to speak even though this is so awkward and you have no idea who this is and you _totally_ caught him checking you out just now. He’s flustered slightly, you can tell by the way he straightens up.

“Can I help you, officer?” there’s a slight flirtation to your voice, you can’t help it. He checks all your boxes.

An eyebrow raises. “Not unless you can rush someone out of there for me.”

Oh. Girlfriend? Wife?

“That depends. Who you waitin’ on?”

He’s silent a beat then nods toward you. “You buyin’ that?”

“No, I was thinking of stealing it in front of this police officer. Opinions?”

A short laugh leaves him before he runs his hand down his face, your eyes catching that he traces his thumb over his lip. Tantalizing. Truly.

“Real cute,” he takes a step closer. “Looks nice on you though,” he’s picked up the flirtation and apparently felt like joining in. “Your boyfriend’ll like it.”

Smooth.

“Better on me or on the floor?” you manage, feeling heat in your belly.

The cop clears his throat when someone steps out of the dressing room: a tentative young girl. She won’t break gaze from you, stare intense.

“Uh…El, you ready?” the officer chokes out, shoving hands in pockets and making you _oh, so curious._ “Enjoy your date.”

You decide to leave well enough alone, not tell Nancy about your little encounter, go change out of the dress. She doesn’t question how it looks on you when you finally find her searching around in the shoe department. Naturally, she takes credit for finding that black dress which – of course – you’re buying.

You go your separate ways after a quick ‘see ya later.’ It’s odd how time changes things, how a relationship that used to be so intense in childhood has now grown amicable yet almost dull as the years separate you.

Nancy isn’t going to be at the party, but instead will be spending time with her boyfriend, Jonathan. Meaning you will have to mingle _alone_. Joy.

•••

The mingling is just as painful as you’d expected. You’re on your second drink and if Aunt Karen makes a comment about it you aren’t afraid to point out that she’s been pregaming since 3:00.

“You bought it,” a deep voice fills your ears and you instantly feel warm, noticing a person beside you as you’re mid-pour.

No way. No _freaking_ way.

Officer Dadbod is standing right _fucking_ next to you and dear, sweet Satan are you thinking some impure things right about now. It’s the wine, sure, sure.

Only Officer Dadbod is wearing a blue flannel that really highlights how blue his eyes are and those jeans are doing something for him too, God damn.

He’s staring. Right, he spoke, yeah…you should probably say something back. Think of the fire of your last conversation.

“I figured you seemed to like it so much, how could I say no,” you stare up at him, once again noting the height difference.

“S’that right?” he’s reaching for a beer and his fingers graze yours as you put down the wine bottle.

His hands are ginormous…

You send him a smile. “I never got your name.”

He smirks back at you. “Really? It’s on my uniform…”

No filter, “If you think I was looking at your _nametag_ you’re pretty daft.”

A slow gaze takes you in as he swallows back a sip of beer. You’d almost expected more of a reaction from him. Yet, nothing.

“Hopper,” he speaks after a beat. You shoot him a confused look. “My…name. Jim Hopper.”

It clicks. “Y/N,” are you supposed to shake hands? This is weird. Things are weird when you aren’t bantering with one another.

“Wait, you’re Mike’s cousin, aren’t you?” he points at you to which you nod, confused how he knows this. “Your…uh…he’s dating my daughter…” this makes him swallow down some more beer.

There is so much that needs unpacking from that but you start with, “You have a daughter?”

A nod and you gather he’s uncomfortable talking about this. “El. She’s uh…she was in the dressing room.”

Right. She heard their flirty comments to one another. Great. Probably went home to tell her mother…

“Oh.”

You eyes scan around the room for a second.

“You lookin’ for my wife, you’ll be at it a while,” he hums against the beer, taking another sip.

“Ah, did she not join you?”

“M’not married,” maybe it’s the weight of what he’s saying or _how_ he says it but that deep voice sounds like the only one in the room and you’ve got tunnel vision.

“Good thing. Me neither,” you joke, trying to laugh off the intensity of the situation that he’s _probably_ not feeling.

He pulls out a pack of cigarettes, taps them twice. “You want a smoke?”

“Uh…sure!” yes, less crowded situation hopefully, some more privacy, hopefully you won’t abruptly kiss him.

It’s nice out tonight, no breeze, not too chilly.

You’re found out pretty quickly when you two get outside. He offers the open pack to you.

“Actually…I don’t smoke,” you awkwardly stumble out. His lackadaisical glance greets you.

“So, you just wanted to get me _alone_ then, s’that it?” he lights his own, takes a drag.

“Guilty,” you shrug. “Guys are so forward, why can’t I be?”

This piques his interest it seems, body turning fully toward you.

“Oh? Alright, college girl, be forward.”

You sip your wine for a second, realize you’re kind of all talk and losing the nerve a bit. And then you think of all the lame guys from your town, all the _boys_ and this _man_ currently towering over you.

“Well, for one I think you like what you saw. Maybe had to do with this dress. Maybe the age thing?” you eye him up and he doesn’t give away too much but you get the sense that you hit the nail on the head. “Whatever. Point is: there’s a spark here of some sort and I think it would be a damn pity to miss out on something that could be _really_ fucking good if you let it…”

You aren’t prepared for the kiss he plants on your lips, but you welcome the intensity. He’s dipped down to catch your lips and you’re so into the height difference it’s ridiculous. You can taste the beer and smoke on him, but it’s adding to the urgency you’re feeling. You press yourself toward him, meeting his intensity with a need of your own.

You can tell he hesitates to pull away but the door opens beside you and some lady walks out, calling out to someone by the bonfire.

Hopper growls low in his throat, staring at you as you smirk behind your wine glass, swallowing some courage down so you don’t say anything stupid. The look on his face is pure desire, his eyes shamelessly trailing over your body.

He’s about to say something but the door opens again and you peek around him to see your aunt. She hasn’t spotted you yet so you duck back behind the mountain of a man that is Hopper, bumping against him in your movement.

“Hop, have you seen my niece?” she speaks to him.

“Uhhh…” he doesn’t have any quips for her and you wonder if it has anything to do with the bulge you noticed in his pants.

Karen waves him off, stepping off the back porch.

“Smooth, Officer,” you joke.

“Chief,” he corrects, looking down at you with that intensity again. You bite your lower lip. “What? That do somethin’ for ya, kid? You wet?” he speaks lowly. “C’mon, be _forward_.”

Your mouth goes dry. “I’ll meet you inside.”

Two steps toward the door and you hear your aunt calling you, rushing over to sling her arm around your shoulder. Apparently, she wants to introduce you to Ted’s coworker’s son. You know Hopper heard that one because when you glance back before the door closes, he’s looking smug with that little lip bite he’s doing. Damn him.

It takes you a little longer than you’d hoped but you manage to ditch this _kid_ and sneak your way upstairs, claiming a bathroom break. In the hallway by the staircase, you lean against the wall with a sigh, taking a sip of your wine.

You think your eyes deceive you when the Chief walks up those stairs, eyes focused on you considering you’re the only one in the area. He must have been watching you, must have assumed this was his invitation.

And suddenly you’re realizing that you’re _alone_ with him now. Completely and totally boned, for sure.

Once again, he’s dipping down to kiss you, but this time he starts peppering kisses to your neck, presses his thigh in between your legs. The pressure makes a soft moan leave you – _thank God for the shitty music downstairs_.

His free hand comes down to grab your ass, teeth nibbling on your neck and you grant him a sharp inhale.

“Jim…” you whisper, trying to get his attention before you let him fuck you in the hallway.

“Mmmmhm?” instead of stopping, he moves on to your lips and adds more pressure between your thighs.

“ _Now_.”

Half-laugh, half-growl leaves him when he pulls away to let you lead him down the hall to the bathroom. You shove the door closed behind the two of you, locking it. The Chief pushes you against the sink countertop, slips his fingers up your thigh, _growls_ when he notices you aren’t wearing panties.

“Since we met, I’ve been wondering what that dress looks like on the floor,” his voice is so sexy in the whisper thing he’s doing and you’re melting against him, his body pushing you to the counter but holding you up. Your legs are Jell-O. “Off. Now.”

You do as you’re told and he rewards you by slipping his finger into you. After the initial pleasure of his thick digit, you sigh, a smirk lifts your features as you look up at him.

“You’re _fun_ ,” you taunt. “Just bend ‘em right over.”

His finger is in you but he keeps it still.

Hopper grunts at you, grips both your hands with his free one and presses them to his bulge. As soon as you get to work unclasping his belt, his finger start pumping inside of you and you almost lose balance.

No words are spoken as you shove his unzipped jeans down his hips, boxers too. Your pleasure is almost overwhelming – it’s been too long since another touched you like this and you’re extremely sensitive at the moment.

Hopper wastes no time, realizing your height difference might prove more complicated than he’s willing to contemplate right now – he slips the finger out of you, hoists you up on the counter.

You’re _barely_ on the thing, just enough to hold you there as Hopper lines himself up with your entrance. The _size_ of him…

He must have noticed your trepidation because he raises your chin with his finger and holds your gaze as he slips into you. Watching the pleasure on his face, you bite your tongue as you get used to being stretched like this. Short breaths leave his nostrils, you can tell he’s trying to control himself.

Hands roaming his torso, you grip his hips and force him closer to you, shoving him deeper before he thinks you’re ready but your wetness helps with that and the stretch isn’t _so_ painful.

“God, Chief, I need you to fuck me,” you whisper against his flannel shirt, actually disappointed he hasn’t taken it off. Here you are completely bare for him.

He’s clearly in control and you gladly lean into that.

At your words, he finally starts moving and clearly the levee has broken – his thrusts are incessant, desperate.

His voice huffs out a string of words, “God, you’re so wet for me,” and “are you close already, baby girl?”

You find this whole thing super attractive. Head pressing against his chest, you nod fervently, trying not to make too much noise.

“Chief,” you whisper. “Close, m’so close…”

The way Hopper holds his breath, eyes closed, concentrates, you wonder if he’s close already too. Does he get off on this sneaking around thing just as much as you do?

You lean up and kiss him through your orgasm, trying to remain silent but once he knows you’re cumming, he puts more power behind his thrusts.

There’s movement outside the door and you shush him, try to get him to still, dig your heels into his back. You can feel his cock twitch with every heartbeat. His pupils are blown wide, lips swollen from your kisses. His panting comes out quieter.

The footsteps retreating back downstairs, you both breathe a sigh of relief.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he mutters against your neck as he presses open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin.

Your reaction time is a little delayed so he repeats himself with a growl. You follow orders.

Hopper easily hoists you off the counter, presses your back against the wall. The thud is covered by the music playing downstairs, but you’re quickly sore from the way he’s manhandling you. Bruising is likely.

Hands slide down to your hips as he steadily pounds into you; this position giving him easier maneuverability. The pleasure coursing through you from the way he’s sliding you on and off his cock; it’s overwhelming. Your back’s aching a little from the pressure on the wall, but his thick cock’s gotten you so wet and focusing on that stimulation is your saving grace.

“Gah, _fuck_ ,” he huffs out and you can feel his hips pulling back as if he’s going to-

“No, don’t,” you gasp. “Cum in me. Fuck, cum in me…”

That’s it – all it takes – Jim couldn’t pull out in time even if he was trying. The urgency of your words and the permission to fill you fulfills some kink of his and he’s filling you good.

He’s still got you against the wall after he’s finished grunting and breathing against your shoulder. Half-hard dick still inside you, you tense your pelvic floor and his cock jolts at the sensation.

“God _damn_ , little girl…” he shakes his head.

“Had enough already?” you tease, eyes trailing over his heated face.

He swallows, shakes his head. “No. Not even close.”

“Good.”

“C’mon, get dressed. Let’s get outta here.”

“So, you’re just gonna leave my aunt’s party with her niece; sex hair and swollen lips and cum dripping down my thighs?”

He groans. “Filthy. God, what a filthy mouth…” he groans, gripping your cheeks.

You laugh, leaning your head back as he slides himself out of you. He eases you to your feet and his cum is dripping down your thighs.

His cock’s still hard when he puts himself away and zips up.

“I’m leaving,” he says. “It’s up to you to figure out how you get in my truck.”

“Challenge accepted.”


End file.
